


Measure For Measure

by jcrycolr3wradc



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Other, Soul Mate AU, soul marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcrycolr3wradc/pseuds/jcrycolr3wradc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crona has had the shackle around their wrist for as long as they can remember. But they have no idea what it is, or why asking about it is taboo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measure For Measure

Measure for Measure

**A/N: You get a convenient soul mate mark AU. God the perspective is all over the place for this one. Also sorry to Stein/Marie and SoMa fans everywhere. IDK what I’m doing.**

 

Crona has had the heavy shackle around their wrist for as long as they can remember. They might have even had it before Ragnarok. It’s magical of course, with no keyhole or hinges. Just a perfectly smooth band of metal that grows with them. It adheres tightly to their wrist, barely moving at all and Crona doesn’t think they’ve ever been able to wash the pale skin under it.

Crona never asked Medusa about it. Medusa never explained it.

They liked being able to eat more than they wanted their curiosity satisfied.

But sometimes when the darkness and hunger and pain was too much, Crona would find their corner and whisper to it. Often it wasn’t very coherent, mostly just mumbling about whatever came to mind, and Crona’s mind was never very clear. Sometimes they swore they could feel the skin under it tingle, like the shackle was responding.

It helped not to feel so alone.   

~~~

After the DWMA and the kishin and Medusa, Crona finally had enough time to wonder about it. Much to their relief other people at the DWMA had them too. Well, not shackles, but nearly everyone covered their left wrist. Bandannas, bandages, bracelets all cover the skin. No one talked about it and no one asked about Crona’s. 

Which was good, because Crona didn’t even know what they would say, but also bad because  _ no one talked about it _ , and they still couldn’t get any answers. 

Finally when Crona couldn’t take it anymore they asked Ms. Marie. 

“What?” She looked startled, setting down the tea sharply. Crona flinched, then immediately felt bad when Marie looked concerned.

“I-I mean why does everyone wear one? What do they mean?” Crona tapped their shackle. 

Marie’s eye turned to Crona’s wrist. 

“Crona, no one’s explained soul marks to you?” 

They shook their head, shrinking slightly when, like a bolt of lightening, a furious expression passed over Marie’s face. 

“I bet Medusa never even let you see it.” Marie ground her teeth, eye hard. She was silent for a moment and Crona watched warily. 

The blonde shook herself out of cursing the witch and instead turned her eye to crona, taking a deep breath and smiling gently. She took Crona’s hand, forever cool from the black blood, in her warm one, healing wavelength warming her skin. 

“Every weapon or meister has one. It’s a mark or a word that tells you who your soulmate is.” 

Crona gaped at her. 

A soul mate?

Crona shook their head, protests already piling on their tongue. Marie kept talking, softly. 

“Everyone is different. For some people it’s a symbol, or a word. Sometimes people even get a name.” Her hand tightened over Crona’s. “But every meister has one Crona.” Marie’s expression went very soft and sorry looking for a moment. “Have you ever seen yours Crona?”

They shook their head. “Lad-I mean Medusa never took this off me. I’ve had this for as long as I can remember.” 

Marie nodded sadly. 

“W-what does your’s look like?” Crona blurted out before they could reconsider. 

Marie’s eye widened, hand going to clutch the white cloth she wore around her left wrist. 

“That’s a very personal question, Crona.” Her voice was very soft. “Usually only parents or your soul mate ever see your mark.” 

“Oh.” Crona nodded, heart sinking. Marie bit her lip but then smiled slowly, gently untying the knot. 

“But, I think,” she was unwrapping it now and Crona’s eyes widened., “I’d like to make an exception for you Crona.” 

The white cloth fell away and marie turned her hand over, delicate skin revealed.

‘ _ Be gentle with this. It’s volatile. _ ’ The words were in red, like blood, and in a spiky, jagged kind of script. But Marie smiled at them like they were the most beautiful words in the world. Like they sunrise or stars.

“W-what do they mean?” Crona asked. Marie shrugged, smile still playing around her lips. 

“Volatile means changing, or abrupt. You see it a lot in science-” She stopped suddenly, and hurriedly started unwrapping her cloth as Doctor Stein rolled into the room. 

Crona had to leave soon after, still wondering about ‘volatile’. 

They would have to ask Maka later.

~~~

Marie had been wandering around for an hour. 

How was this classroom so hard to find? It was just soulogy 101, shouldn’t it be on the main floor? She huffed in annoyance. 

If Kami had just waited for Marie while she was in the bathroom instead of rushing off, this wouldn’t have happened. 

Marie was pretty sure she’d missed the class by now, but stubbornness kept her searching. She opened door after door, the entire wing seeming abandoned.

She finally found one that seemed to at least have lights on and twisted the knob.

At first she thought it was empty until a noise in her blind spot mad Marie turn her head.  

Another student was at the professor's desk, the wood creaking under all of the stuff piled on it. He seemed intensely focused, bent at the waist, one hand holding an inflated bag, the other was holding needle poised over a-

Was that a pigeon?

“Can I help you?” Marie jumped when she realized she’s been staring at him. His gaze was on her now, still bent over and needle hanging in the air.

“Um. Do you know where soulogy 101 is?” 

He blinked, glasses flashing as he tilted his head.

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Oh.” Marie’s heart sank as her face heated up. “Sorry, I’ll leave you then-”

“Can you hold this?” The boy interrupted her, gesturing to the bag.

Marie blinked. “Uh, sure.” She walked into the room and stood on the other side of the desk. 

“Be gentle with this. It’s volatile.” He handed the bag over, straightening up.

Marie froze. 

Those words. Her words. 

The words that had been in english on her wrist since before she even learned swedish.

“I have steady hands.” Her mouth was moving without her thinking about it.

He smiled slightly, the corners of his green eyes crinkling slightly.

“Good.”  

~~~

“Crona can I tell you something?” Maka whispered. 

They were on Maka’s bed, having a ‘sleepover’. 

The name was funny because they almost never ended up sleeping during a sleepover.

Crona nodded. 

“It’s a secret okay?” Maka played with the green wrap around her wrist. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Crona nodded again, a little worried. Maka wasn’t usually this insistent. 

“I think I know who my soul mate is,” she whispered. 

Crona’s eyebrows raised. “You do?” 

“I-I think so.” Maka rubbed a thumb over the fabric. “I can’t read it, but I just...have a feeling I know what it means.” 

“It’s in another language?” Crona asked, concerned. They rubbed their own shackle. 

What if theirs was in a language they couldn’t read? What if it was in Greek like what Medusa spoke sometimes or in the language of witches?

(What if it was blank? If all of Crona’s concerns about being alone were true? That no one had or would ever love them?)

Maka’s cheeks turned pink and she dragged a pillow out of position to bury her face in. She shook her head and mumbled. 

“What?”

Maka whispered again and Crona stopped breathing and leaned in as close as they could to hear the tail end of it. 

“-music notes.”

Crona thought for a second. “Have you asked Soul? He knows-” 

Maka’s head shaking increased in speed and Crona stopped. 

“Please don’t ask Soul! I don’t want him to know!” Maka raised her head enough to beg then dropped it again. Crona patted her shoulder, a little confused. 

Why would Maka be so concerned about asking Soul? He knew a lot about music.

~~~

When Maka was little and her mama was still around, she’d wanted to learn violin. She’d begged her parents every Christmas for lessons, dragged them into numerous music shops, pointed it out every time she saw a concert poster.

It wasn’t that she liked violin. 

Maka was much more a guitar person, but she knew that part of playing an instrument was learning music and if she learned music, she would be able to know what the notes on her wrist meant. 

Papa had encouraged it, promising year after year, ‘Next summer, angel. Next birthday. Next year, Maka I promise.’

Mama hadn’t wanted her to. 

“Maka you’ll meet your soulmate when you’re ready. You don’t need to rush sweetheart.”

But now Mama was gone and Papa could never keep his promises. 

Maka still couldn’t read music. 

She thought about asking Soul. But every time she even brought up soul marks, he looked so uncomfortable that she dropped it for both of their dignity. 

She’d accidentally seen Soul’s once, when after his surgery to repair his chest, after Crona... 

It didn’t mean anything to her, just a depressed piano key. She’d never learned the notes. But her mind caught onto the fact that they both had music for soul marks. 

‘ _ It doesn’t mean anything. Stop being silly. Soul’s is probably another piano player _ .’ She insisted to her own mind.   

Finally Maka caved. Yes she was stubborn but this was just silly. 

Since talking to Crona, Maka decided to grit her teeth and finally confront the issue head on.

“Soul, we need to talk.” 

He always looked so nervous when she said that. 

“What’s up Maka?” His nervous expression melted into a vaguely exasperated one. “If this is about a toilet again, I swear it wasn’t me. You and Blair have been conspiring- What are you doing?!”

Maka had started unwrapping her cloth, face set into detirmed lines. 

“I need your help. I can’t read my mark.”

Soul looked hurt for a moment, before he smoothed his face out, adopting a more aloof expression.

Maka sat down next to him, wrapping the last layer. She took a deep breath before whipping it off and baring it to Soul.

She watched as his expression changed from aloof to shock, mouth opening and eyes widening. 

After a long moment Maka finally asked. 

“Can you read it? What’s it say?” 

Soul swallowed dryly. 

“M-Maka. It’s uh, it’s a ‘forte’ note.” He gently pressed a finger to her wrist and Maka shivered. “And this is a treble cleft, followed by a sharp ‘G’.” 

Maka stared at him blankly, frustrated by her own lack of understanding. Soul smiled a little. 

“It’d probably help if you saw what it looked like huh?” 

Maka nodded and watched in amazement as Soul started unwrapping his own cloth. 

The image hadn’t changed. It still didn’t mean anything to Maka. But for some reason her heart started pounding. 

“Do you know what this is?” Soul asked.

Maka swallowed around the knot in her throat. 

“I-is it a sharp G played on the piano?”

Soul smiled shyly. 

“It is. But you can’t forget the forte.” 

“What does that mean?” Maka whispered as she leaned forward. 

“It means it’s loud.” Soul whispered back. 

Maka grinned. “Loud huh? You wanna find out if that’s true?”

Soul’s expression was priceless as she kissed him.                 

~~~~

Sometimes Crona still talked to the shackle. After they woke up from a nightmare and no one was around, they’d stroke the cool metal and count backwards from ten breathing in and out. 

Kid had taught them that.

“ _ Sometimes I have to do it too. When the asymmetry is too bad. It’s helps to not think about it so much _ .”

Crona wondered if their soul mate ever had to count backwards. If they felt alone or afraid. Or were they brave like Maka or Black*Star or Kid? 

Would they ever like Crona?

As far as Crona knew it was impossible to get the shackle off. it was magic so it couldn’t be cut or melted away and crona wasn’t sure if they were desperate enough to see if Stein could attach their hand if cutting it off was the only option. 

However Stein did have another trick up his sleeve. 

“Crona, meet Theodore Sarel.” Crona stared at the other student. He was a little older, and from the NOT class. He waved lazily. 

“Sarel is a rather unique weapon and he’s helped me before. Go ahead and show Crona, Sarel.” 

He nodded and pointed a finger at the opposite wall. A long thin beam shot out, and Crona could feel heat from it.

“He’s a laser.” Stein sat down. “I’ve had him help me before on delicate surgeries.” 

Sarel shrugged. “Hey, guys gotta live some how.”

Stein smirked. “Indeed. Anyway, I think that he’s precise enough to melt the cuff off your arm,” Stein drawled. “That is if you want it-”

“Yes! Please.” Crona interrupted. “When can we do it? Now? Can we do it now?” 

Stein smiled.   

~~~

Kid stared at the words on his wrist again. 

He’d been very disappointed as a child, after getting his soul mark. 

It was only on one wrist, thus making him even more horribly asymmetrical and he didn’t even understand what it meant.

“Do you know where the real hell is hiding?” 

Kid had the shape and form of the words memorised. He could have written them blindfolded from the innumerable time he’d traced the letters.

They’d made no sense at all to him. What kind of question was that, even? Who asks someone that?

So when on the ghost ship, the demon sword, Crona had appeared and asked him the words verbatim, Kid had paused. 

He’d stopped, shocked by very idea. 

No one knew. Not Liz or Patti. Not his father. 

Not even Crona.

Kid had seen the heavy shackle they wore. Crona probably had never seen their mark. 

If Kid had any courage at all he’d tell them, to at least let them know they weren’t alone.

But what Crona ever accept him? An abrupt, persnickety, OCD, half reaper who had at one point nearly killed Crona? 

Kid wasn’t sure he wanted to take the chance. And what if Crona wasn’t immortal? What if Kid feel in love with them, only to be left alone when Crona died? 

There was too much riding on it. So Kid left his wrist covered, and ignored it. He pressed it into a box and shoved that box into a corner of his mind, then barricaded the door. 

It didn’t matter, Kid insisted to himself.

Crona would probably never know.

~~~~

It took longer than Crona thought it would, nearly two hours, including a lunch break, for the shackle to come off. 

Sarel finally finished and wiped his brow.

“That’s as far as I can go. It’ll start to burn if I go any farther.” 

Stein nodded. “Thank you. Your bitcoins will be in your account by the time you’re home.”

Sarel saw himself out of the exam room and left Stein and Crona alone. 

“I’m going to pry it off now.” 

Crona took a deep breath and nodded, closing their eyes. Stein used pliers to pull each half of the metal apart. It screeched and protested, but eventually caved, clanging to the floor.

“You can look now, Crona.” Stein turned around, giving them some privacy. 

They did, first at the top of their wrist, the skin so pale it was nearly see through, black veins so vivid that Crona was a little disgusted. Slowly they turned it over, heart pounding.

Crona couldn’t see souls. They’d heard Maka try to describe what they looked like before, but couldn’t really wrap their mind around it. 

But they didn’t need to, to understand whose soul this was.

Who else would have a golden soul with three white stripes around it?

~~~

Stein looked up as the door banged, Crona gone. He grinned, lighting up a cigarette. He hadn't looked, voyeurism wasn’t his thing, but he had a pretty good hypothesis. His own words, ‘ _ I have steady hands _ ’ tingled under the stitches that covered them.

~~~

Crona ran all the way to the Gallows, heart thumping. 

They were in turns scared, excited, relieved and a little angry.

Kid could see souls. 

He must have known, right? If they had matching ones? Maka said souls were always very distinct. She’d said that Crona’s soul didn’t look like any other. 

Kid must know.

If Crona stopped to think, they would have gone back home. But adrenaline fueled them  as they sprinted through the streets, up Kid’s quarter mile driveway and up to his door. 

They knocked on the door before common sense could barge back into their brain. The seconds of waiting for the door to open were agonising. But they ended when Kid opened it.  

“Hello? Oh, hi Cro-” He stopped when Crona held up their wrist. He looked at the imagine, then back to Crona’s face.

“Um.” Kid swallowed. Crona waited.

~~~ 

Finally Kid stepped aside and Crona walked into his house, eyes never leaving his face. Kid led them up to his room, shutting the door. Liz and Patti weren’t home but this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be interrupted. 

Crona stood in the center of the room, feeling very awkward. Finally they simply sank down to the floor, legs crossed under them. Kid smiled slightly and sat down as well, mimicking the pose. Crona looked again at their wrist, the image vivid. 

“Why didn’t you tell me Kid?” They asked quietly. Kid winced. 

“Crona, first, let me apologise. I didn’t mean to obscure information from you.” He sounded sincere at least and Crona relaxed at little. “I didn’t tell you because, um.” Kid shifted his gaze away, looking at the paintings on his wall. “I was afraid of telling you,” he admitted quietly. 

Crona started. “Afraid? Afraid of me?” 

Kid shook his head. “Not of you Crona, but of the consequences.” At their blank look, Kid explained.

“I’m a god, Crona. I expect I will live for a very very long time. Time means almost nothing to me. I’m afraid that acting on the feelings I have for you will eventually break my heart, because you’ll die and I will be alone. Do you understand?”

Crona frowned. “N-no.” Kid jerked his head up. 

“What?”

“I-I said no. No. That’s not fair. Y-you can’t expect me to finally know there’s someone out there wh-who loves me and then tell me that you can’t because you’re afraid!” Crona’s voice got more and more upset and they were choking back tears. “S-so no, Kid. That’s not fair.”

Kid’s expression softened as Crona started crying in earnest. He unwrapped the cloth that covered his wrist, the black letters glinting slightly. He scooched closer, and gently rubbed their wet cheeks with the cloth. 

“Shhh. Shhhh. I’m sorry Crona. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Crona sniffed, opening their eyes. “I-I know. You’re nice.” He blushed.

“Can we at least try, Kid?” Crona begged. “Please?” They covered the hand that was holding the cloth with their own. “I know you don’t want to be alone in the future, but I’m alone right now, Kid.” He swallowed, looking into their eyes. They were so pretty, a unique and ever changing blue that could be as clear as the sky and tempestuous as the sea. 

Would it be worth it, letting go or hanging on? Could Kid stand to watch them walk away from him, either now or later?

Kid didn’t think so. 

But for Crona, he was going to try.           

“Okay, Crona. Let’s try,” he said softly, watching as their face lit up like the sunrise.

It would probably hurt later, but right now, as Crona hugged him, warm and alive, Kid was willing to take some pain for this pleasure.        


End file.
